


In Between the Moon and You

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5 Things, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 17:23:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Remus and Sirius were happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Between the Moon and You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [angelgazing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelgazing/gifts).



> Happy birthday to angelgazing, who requested this. OTP of OTPs! ♥ Title from Counting Crows.

i.

"Oi, Wormtail, don't be a stranger," Remus says as Peter steps into the fireplace.

Peter gives him a wobbly smile--Remus lost track of how much they drank after the third bottle of currant rum disappeared but Peter's always held his liquor better than most--and is gone in a flash of Floo powder. 

Remus looks over the wreck of the flat, glad that it's small and mostly unfurnished, and therefore easier to clean than a larger, fancier space would have been. Lily's sprawled out on the couch, half-asleep, and James and Sirius are huddled together on the floor of the living room, no doubt planning something ridiculous.

Remus starts tidying the place around them, binning plastic cups and hoovering up cookie crumbs (and a ridiculously large splat of icing on the wall; he doesn't know and doesn't want to) with quick flicks of his wand.

James hauls Lily up off the sofa and slings her over his shoulder. "Good party," he says with a judicious nod. "Nice flat."

"So glad we have your blessing," Sirius says and though he sounds sarcastic, Remus and James both know how much he really means it. Remus is glad; they'd kept their relationship a secret from James, which had gone over like a lead balloon, though at least it turned out James was angrier about the secrecy than the fact that two of his best friends were poofs, and he'd never been much for holding a grudge.

Then James and Lily are gone and Remus and Sirius are alone together.

"It was a good party," Remus says, settling the glassware to dry next to the sink and turning into Sirius's embrace.

"It's about to get better," Sirius says, because he can't resist making ridiculous statements, but Remus kisses him anyway.

*

ii.

"This band is terrible," Remus shouts. The guitarist can barely play and the singer keeps screaming random words because he doesn't know the lyrics, or maybe he does and just doesn't care. It doesn't stop Remus from bouncing up and down to the beat, though.

"I know," Sirius answers, hot breath tickling Remus's ear. Remus shivers, even though he's soaked with sweat. "Isn't it great?"

Remus turns and grins at him. "Yeah."

After the show is over, after the usual mad scramble for coats and the push out into chilly autumn air, Remus realizes he's wearing someone else's scarf. It's brown and red and gold, so it could pass for his Gryffindor scarf in a pinch, but it smells of lavender and cigarette smoke.

"Suits you," Sirius says, curling his fingers in the ends and tugging Remus close.

The kiss is still thrilling, even though they've been together a while, are as much of an old-married couple as James and Lily, but he never gets tired of kissing Sirius--the warm softness of Sirius's lips, the slick heat of his mouth, the way his breath hitches when Remus sucks at his lower lip and then flutters his tongue along Sirius's palate. 

Sirius pulls away with a breathless laugh and presses their foreheads together. "Let's go home so I can have my wicked way with you."

Remus wraps his arms around Sirius and holds on while Sirius apparates them both back to the flat. He doesn't ever want to let go. 

*

iii.

Remus is in a Muggle pub in Glasgow when Sirius's note finds him. They haven't seen each other since that fateful night at the Shrieking Shack, when Remus forgot to take his potion and ruined everything. The note is brief--longitude and latitude, signed with an S that curves like a snake.

He goes to the bookstore to look up the location; his fondness for maps had been one of the driving forces behind the Marauders Map when they were in school, and even now, after years of traveling the world, he still gets a little thrill as he traces the lines with the tip of his finger. Sirius is in Bermuda. 

Remus knows joining him is a bad idea--the last thing he wants to do is get Sirius locked up again--but it doesn't take him more than a moment or three to map out a circuitous route, one that will take him through Budapest and Bangalore on the way, almost untraceable.

It's late when he arrives, the sky bluing with twilight over a green glass sea and pastel pink sands. Buckbeak trumpets out a greeting and Sirius turns from dog to man with a smooth transition Remus has always envied.

"I hoped you'd come," Sirius says, his voice hoarse, and Remus wonders how long it's been since he spoke to anyone. 

"I wasn't sure," Remus starts, and then changes his mind. "I needed to apologize, if nothing else."

Sirius huffs and glances away for a second. "Apology accepted. Get over here, you daft bugger." Remus takes two steps and then Sirius is pulling him into a hug. He buries his face in Sirius's neck, getting a noseful of salty dog smell, and his hands clutch at the thin material of Sirius's raggedy t-shirt. "Gonna rip the shirt right off my back?" Sirius murmurs, laughter in his voice. "Getting impulsive in your old age, eh, Moony?" 

Remus blinks back tears when he kisses him, and he pretends that the salt he tastes on Sirius's skin is simply the sea.

*

iv.

Remus wakes slowly, taking the automatic inventory of a morning after a full moon. There are the usual aches and pains--the potion helps immensely, but he's not as young as he used to be, and is, in fact, kind of old for a werewolf these days--but when he inhales, he gets a mouthful of hair and sleepy-warm dog smell. Sirius is curled up in the bed with him, and though he's thinner than he was when they were boys, and there's some grey threaded through hair, he's still the best comfort Remus has ever had before, during, and after the change.

Once he would have woken Sirius with hungry, laughing kisses, but now he just lies still and breathes him in, letting the steady sound of Sirius's heartbeat lull him back to sleep. 

He doesn't know how long he's been dozing when he wakes up again to find Sirius watching him. He smiles. "Hi."

Sirius's mouth quirks up in a half-grin. "Hello, Moony. You okay?"

"Fine, thanks. And you?"

"I'm all right."

Remus reaches out and brushes Sirius's fringe off his forehead, then runs his thumb down the noble slope of Sirius's nose and across the high arch of his cheekbones. He hesitates briefly when he gets to Sirius's mouth, but figures in for a sickle, in for a knut, so he brushes Sirius's lower lip and sucks in a surprised breath when Sirius licks the pad of his thumb, then scrapes it with his teeth. 

Then Sirius pushes him onto his back and leans over him, eyebrow raised inquisitively. "You had a rough night," he says. "Why don't you let me do all the work?"

Remus laughs into his kiss.

* 

v.

It's late when Remus gets back to London, and later still when he finally arrives on the doorstep of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. The sky is that peculiar orange color it gets during a snowstorm, streetlights reflecting into the clouds, and he's shivering in his too-thin robes when the door swings open. He can hear Sirius and his mother's portrait going at it hammer and tongs, the shrill shriek of her lamentations enough to make Remus want to turn tail and run. He takes a deep breath and forces himself through the door, which slams shut behind him with a bang. 

Sirius looks wild-eyed and soused, and he smells of firewhisky and dirty hair when Remus kisses him. 

"Come on," he says, before Sirius can lay into him. He drags Sirius through the house and out the back door to the tiny backyard. Sirius's face lights up in the snow; he sticks out his tongue to catch the flakes, and then pulls Remus into another embrace. 

"Thank you," he says, pressing kisses to Remus's jaw and cheeks and lips. 

"Anything for you, my dear Mr. Padfoot," Remus says, and he means it. 

Sirius follows him back into the house without complaint, up the stairs and into the bedroom, and if it's not the life Remus had hoped to have when they were young and stupid and just out of school, well, it's still better than the life they'd had while Sirius was in Azkaban, and Remus knows how to take happiness where he finds it.

end


End file.
